Sound Lyrics

My sound it's round the town

My sound make the crowd gather 'round

My sound not playing with sound

My sound kill, kill sound

My sound rude boy sound

My sound hip-hip sound

My sound jungle sound

My sound jungle sound

Just some shit I overheard from the reservoir docks

Rappers got a writing team

Got the kid screaming

A cover's what I'm seeing

Might let y'all keep breathing

But then the game would stay sleazy

And they would still think this shit's easy

Breezy, cheesy

Man this bullshit making me queasy

Disease, he sound wheezy

Take it easy while we catch these in the first degrees

Freeze frame when we spit with ease

Please sit down pen and pad, you lack the expertise

Bank coming for the keys, the skis

You forgot to pay your writers fees

Analyses, you just a hand full of feces

Like a monkey threw shit at that TV

Now how how you gon' see me

Need somebody clean it with sqeegy

See me say fuck your mom clearly

Maybe you'll open your eyes when I release the heavy D

Aye yo, Fleetwood, hit 'em

My sound it's round the town

My sound make the crowd gather 'round

My sound not playing with sound

My sound kill, kill sound

My sound rude boy sound

My sound hip-hip sound

My sound jungle sound

My sound jungle sound

Just some shit I overheard from the reservoir docks

Mother fucking couple trick pony, with an ace up my left sleeve

Going postal kicking flows like a leg sweep

Like I kicked Chuck Norris out my dojo just for entering

My belts green, I'm sensei, this first lesson may be free

Whoever taught these kids the rap better gave 'em receipts

This ain't MTV

Y'all gon' need an EMT

I pity you like Mr. T in Rocky 3

Cold cocked seeing three of me

Ain't no reason to be a believer

But that's like saying Bigfoot ain't real while holding up his sneakers

Like why though

I see rap beef, get some of y'all weak at the knees

Like a bitch praying for

Knee pad fantasies, you got

Knee cap scab reality, call it

A blacktop tragedy, in actuality

It's a rich man's fallacy, a misunderstanding

Swag is a half assed strategy

You just a rag, saturated in your vanity's semen

Y'all should pay attention to Fleetwood's genius

'Fore y'all miss the sequel to Jesus

My sound it's round the town

My sound make the crowd gather 'round

My sound not playing with sound

My sound kill, kill sound

My sound rude boy sound

My sound hip-hip sound

My sound jungle sound

My sound jungle sound

Just some shit I overheard from the reservoir docks